


A Quiet Mercy

by AKBruce



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF Betty Cooper, Dark, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, POV Jughead Jones, Physical Abuse, Sisters of Quiet Mercy, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-06-13 19:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKBruce/pseuds/AKBruce
Summary: After Betty's mother notices some things off about her daughter, she ships Betty off to a home for troubled youths, where Betty finds herself face to face with a childhood friend. They talk, and the two realise that there is more to their admission than they thought. What secrets do they unveil, and can they save their town in time while still being abused in many different ways?- - -Told from Jughead's perspective, as if he was writing a novel, just like how he narrates the show. It sounds weird but give it a try. Dark fic, you have been warned.





	1. The Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this idea in my head for a while and have been working hard on the first few chapters, and I love what I've come out with so far! This fic's chapters are longer than my usual chapters and it is darker than my usual fics. That being said, this fic contains graphic violence/abuse, references to self harm, and attempted non-con (I'll put a warning in front of the chapter). If any of that triggers you, you have been warned.  
> Now, please, enjoy the fic. (Come chat with me on tumblr @AKBruce)

_**Chapter 1: The Exposition** _

_**And if you cut yourself / You will think you're happy / He'll keep you in a jar / Then you'll make him happy (Sappy, Nirvana)** _

**[ Hello readers. If you’ve arrived at this novel, you are either very curious or very confused, although there is a very fine line that separates both those emotions. For those of you who were looking for news, this is not light news, and is not NYC news. No, you’ve stumbled upon something that is ultimately different, not better or worse. This tale is dark, and holds truths many find impossible to grasp. This tale is about a town, and the people in it. And the name of this town is none other than Riverdale. ]**

**[ Never heard of it? Not surprised. The national media would never shine a light on this town, not after many occasions like the tale you are about to embark on have occured in it. This tale is about a girl, and specifically, how one event and it’s revealing of the true colours of people could change her life. And this girl’s name was none other than Elizabeth Cooper. ]**

**[ Elizabeth, who insisted upon going by Betty, grew up in Riverdale in a wealthy family that originated from the Southside of the town, though Betty’s family lived in the Northside. The Northside was safe, ‘good’, and wealthy. They had everything going for them, and they were always the ‘good guys’; or so was the facade of the Northsiders. Knowing this, I feel that it is unnecessary to touch on just what the Southside was, and still is known as. Which, so happens to be where I am from, but this is besides the point. ]**

**[ Elizabeth lived a normal life, going through school with a controlling mother, a half-assing father, a rebellious sister and a drug dealing brother she’d met once. Her parents were both journalists, and owned the town paper: ‘The Riverdale Register’. Betty was the good girl in the family, the sane child. She was kind, sweet, and mentally stable, unlike the rest of her family. She was her parents precious baby girl, their youngest child. But, unfortunately for Betty, she had her own demons to slaughter. ]**

**[ The demon’s first started appearing when Betty’s older sister, Polly, was run away from home after getting death threats and some murder attempts because she accidentally had the kids of her cousin, Jason Blossom. Betty had been crushed by her sister having to leave, and began to feel the flint of the Cooper darkness within her being struck. She hated whoever it was that ran her sister away. Even though Polly was rebellious, she definitely hadn’t done anything drastic enough to make herself enemies.]**

**[ The demon’s first physical appearance was on Betty’s own palms. The darkness would flash, the match striking the stone, and her palms would be sticky, just like that. It wasn’t anything specific, either. It was just controlling her anger, holding herself back from lashing out. No one ever took notice, though. Not until years after it began. No one would have noticed, if it hadn’t been for Betty’s own best friends, Veronica Lodge and Archie Andrews. ]**

**[ Betty had been infatuated with her best friend and nextdoor neighbour, Archie Andrews, since anyone, including myself, could remember. They even on and off dated, and were happy. That was, until Veronica decided to skip on down to Riverdale with her looks and charm from the ‘Big Apple’, and Betty found herself becoming second to V, her so called best friend. ]**

**[ Betty and Archie stayed together, though, until the day that this tale begins, though I would argue it began from the moment Betty was born. The day this tale can be evidently drawn back to, though, just so happened to be the day after Betty’s demons were exposed. It wasn’t on purpose, it was just Betty’s loving mother coming to say goodnight to her daughter on a Sunday night after a full day with Archie and V. It was just a coincidence, as Alice would later argue, that Betty’s palms and arm’s were exposed while she was sleeping, giving Alice Cooper the full show of Betty’s demons, making their way all the way up to her elbows. Of course, coincidences are always caused by something, and this coincidence was no exception. That’s for later in the tale, though. ]**

**[ So, as any loving Mother would, Alice did what she thought to be best for her child, with advice from a few acquaintances, friends and family. She called up a ‘reform center’, known as the ‘** **_Sisters of Quiet Mercy’_ ** **and had her daughter whisked away. And that, my readers, is the moment that seperated Riverdale from any normal town. Has your attention been captivated yet?]**

****\- - -** **

 

Betty awoke to the sound of a loud buzzing, thinking at first that it was still apart of her dream and being seemingly disappointed when she opened her eyes and saw that it was her alarm clock. Automatically wishing she hadn’t woken up, Betty slammed snooze on the irritating clock and rolled over in her bed, wanting to stay tangled in the warm covers for the entire day. 

She got out of bed groggily, stumbling a bit from standing to quickly and tugged off her pajamas, throwing a pastel pink sweater atop a pink bra on, along with a pair of light wash jeans. She knew how much Archie liked it when she wore this certain outfit combo, he always complimented it. But, of course, how could she remember that? It wasn’t like she counted the compliments she received from Archie Andrews. Only a fool would need to do that, right? 

She plopped down on her vanity stool, finishing her makeup quickly, never having been a huge makeup-loving girl, topping her face off with her signature pink glossy lip. Giving a quick glance in the mirror and being satisfied, she grabbed her brush and tied up her hair in a high ponytail on the crown of her head, her signature look. 

Pulling her phone of the charger, Betty clicked it on, ignoring the texts from Veronica and her other best friend Kevin, instead texting her dear boyfriend, Archie Andrews, goodmorning. She let him know to come get her soon, pressing send and then making her way downstairs for breakfast, as she did every morning. 

She reached the downstairs relatively quickly, her feet flying over the steps in a hurried manner, knowing that Archie would be headed towards her house in the next ten minutes or so to walk her to school, since he was always late, as he was every school morning since primary school. No matter what relationship they were in, he always walked with her to school. She approached the kitchen, and found herself surprised when her mom wasn’t cooking anything up, messing up their perfectly oiled routine. 

**[ This may not seem odd to some, but there wasn’t ever a meal that Alice Cooper missed cooking for. I know this from personal experiences, that woman would rise from her grave just to fry her daughter an egg for breakfast. ]**

Betty didn’t take any suspicion out of this, though, reminding herself that her mom was a busy woman, instead grabbing a bar from the pantry and munching down on it. She filled a glass and swallowed the pill her mom made her take before turning to head out of the kitchen to grab her school bag. But, when she reached her schoolbag, she heard her mother and father having a hushed discussion in the next room over. And, as Riverdale’s own Nancy Drew, Betty couldn’t help herself, and found her body as close as possible without being visibly seen. 

**[ Curiosity killed the cat was the most dead saying Betty could think of, and that was and will probably always be her mentality when it comes to investigating things she shouldn’t. ]**

“They’ll be here any minute, Hal. What if this was an impulse decision on my part? She’ll never forgive me, you know her! Everyone agreed that it was best for her, but I don’t know anymore,” Betty knit her brows, inching closer and slipping her bag over her shoulder, confused on why her mother’s voice cracked the way it did, as if she was crying. She heard the obvious sound of her father’s exhale, just as a loud knock came on the door. 

Assuming it was Archie, Betty passed into the small greeting space that was around the front door, about to get the door when both her parents stepped in her way. “Guys, let me open the door for my boyfriend. You don’t need to scold him  _ every single day _ ,” She said, exasperated, and her mother shook her head, her eyes bloodshot from tears. 

Betty slowly stepped back from the door and her depressed looking parents, backing towards the kitchen, slightly alarmed. There was a high chance her mom could have been referring to a decision she was making over the search for Polly, but Betty had a lingering suspicion that her mom had been talking about her. Who was they, and why would she never forgive her mother? Maybe it wasn’t Archie at the door.

**[ At this stage in Betty Cooper’s life, she could** **_never_ ** **imagine her mom doing something unforgivable. Her mom loved her so much, and Betty was sure of this. ]**

Just then, Betty heard low male voices speaking in hushed tones outside the door, and then silence, save for boots scuffing against the porch floor. Betty’s nails found their way into their safe space, and she let out a relieved sigh when they sliced. The control was back, she could handle this, talk it out with her mom. 

**[ Of course, she couldn’t have been more wrong, but who is one to judge a Sophomore’s naive thoughts? ]**

Her mom stepped towards her, and Betty stood in the middle of the greeting area, slowly unfisting her hands and raising her brows at her mom. “Well?” She tried, hoping her mom would reply lightheartedly and usher her into the kitchen, beginning breakfast. 

“Betty, come here,” Alice said instead, and Betty raised her eyebrows in confusion, but did as she was told, walking into her mom’s outstretched arms and allowing them to envelope her, resting her head on her mom’s chest and looking up into Alice Cooper’s troubled, secretive eyes. “I love you, Elizabeth.” 

Betty smiled softly, and kissed her mom’s cheek. “I love you too, mom. Now, are you going to make breakfast? Archie will be around any second now to walk me to school. That’s probably him at the door.” 

Her mom did not let go of her, though, and Betty saw, over her mom’s shoulder, her dad open the front door and let two absolute strangers, as far as Betty knew, into their house. They were big men, and everything about them looked scary. It reminded Betty of getting caught in the Southside, or a classic biker movie of some sort.  

**[ Though, to a highschool Sophomore girl, most everybody seemed scary, since height was never on their side, and Betty was no exception. Betty also had a knack for reading and writing, which is why her imagination shot to the worst case scenario often. ]**

“Mom, what’s going on?” Betty asked, pushing out of her mom’s grasp and looking at the men, who moved towards her, both grabbing one of her arms, as if she was a piece of furniture that two movers were trying to evenly distribute weight between before carrying it off to hell’s gates. Betty shoved at them and looked at her mom desperately, trying to grasp what was happening. What was her mom allowing? Was something bad happening to the family? To Polly? Had she not gotten away? Had the death threats caught up with her? “Mom? Mom! MOM?!” Betty raised her voice, but her mom didn’t react, the only tell that she was emotional being the silent tears cascading down her cheeks. 

The men began pulling Betty, their grasps unrelenting, despite her attempts to shove them off her. Soon they were dragging her with ease, as if they had done this multiple times. Their grips were painful, and Betty was sure she would have deep bruises later from them. How was she going to explain that to Archie?

**[ Which, I can account for both of those clever guesses, knowing that it was even more than the simple multiple times of hauling youths around that innocent Betty originally thought, and she did have bruises for a few days. ]**

Soon her mom was out of her vision and the men had dragged her out the front door, which her dad was still holding open, his eyes planted on the ground, unwilling to look at her. Betty’s eyes landed on a big white van parked in front of her house, and her whole fight or flight gland sent her straight into panic mode, her adrenaline turning her into a beast. 

The men still managed to successfully drag her through her front lawn and porch, stopping in front of the car. One of the men opened a door, and, in a last effort to call for her mom, Betty looked up, screaming, to spot her own boyfriend, Archie Andrews, closing his front door and sprinting towards her. But, as it always happened in life, the doors of the van closed, and Betty’s vision was cut off, the vehicle jumping to motion a second later, the screams of her boyfriend bouncing around in her head.

\- - -

Betty was full on hysterical when the van finally came to a stop. Her makeup was ruined, her throat was sore from screaming, and her palms were dripping blood all over the car. The door was jerked open seconds after the car had been parked, and Betty launched herself at the man who opened the door. She refused to go down without a fight, swinging her arms and beating harshly, high on adrenaline, only to have her hands pinned behind her back with ease by the man, her attempt failed. 

**[ The only satisfaction, Betty had told me later, was that she had managed to smear blood all over the mans face and clothing, as if marking her pain. ]**

Rounding around the car door, a huge white gothic cathedral looking building came into her vision, straight out of a horror movie. There was a large sign on the front in concrete, which was settled atop an even bigger cross, reading, “The Sisters of Quiet Mercy’. Betty lost it then, remembering how Polly had told her stories of how their parents had considered sending her there when they learned that Polly was with Jason. This place was one of the ideas for rehab included in the threats. 

There were rumours that were spread throughout Riverdale about this ‘youth reform center’, and how those who went in never came out. 

**[ Ironically, in most cases, the rumours were correct. But, of course, where would this tale be if it was most cases, so don’t fear. ]**

The big doors opened with a squeak, and Betty was shoved through. The first thing she was met with was the absurd amount of security that lined the halls. Caged reception desk? 2 guards. Two hallways going left and right? Two guards each, just at the entrance. A main hallway, that she found herself being pulled down? A guard at every door. Breaking out of this hell would be no walking the bases for Betty Cooper.

She passed a few other patients in the hall as she was being dragged, getting empathetic looks from a few of them. The others just had blank, dead looks, which scared Betty more than the empathetic looks. It looked as if all character and emotion had been drained from their bodies. 

A good amount of metres in, Betty was being lifted from her half-dragging state. She was about to make some move before she lost the adrenaline, but ended up being shoved through a hole in the wall she hadn’t noticed. Stumbling into a room, she whipped around, expecting another man to drag her somewhere, but was just met with a simple white-walled room. 

Just as Betty heard a door slam behind her, she looked about the room, taking it in. There was a single bed in the corner, a window looking out on a garden, and a blue hospital-gown-looking dress folded neatly on the bed, a pair of black sandals topping the room off. 

She walked up to the dirty, reinforced window and looked out at the garden. She observed other people in the blue hospital gowns scattered about. At least they allowed patients outside. She could work with being a patient if she at least had the outdoors.

**[ Though, as she was soon to learn, patients was the wrong word. Victims was correct. A patient wasn’t tortured on purpose. From experience, of course. ]**

Just then, the door opened, and Betty jumped like a frightened animal, turning to see an old woman in the doorway. She was dressed like a nun, with the traditional headpiece and robes. Betty, her back pressed against the wall next to the window, didn’t dare move, having no clue what this woman was going to do. She felt as if she was living some horror of a nightmare.

“Elizabeth, my child. I am Sister Livingston, and I am here to cure you of your sins,” The woman declared, proving Betty’s guess that the old woman was, in fact, a nun. Betty took a step towards her, disbelief on the tip of her tongue, but the sister wasn’t done. “You are unwell, but I will bring you back to the Lord. Now, be a good girl and put those on. After you have changed, you can roam as you like, but only to the garden. I will know if you sin, child.” 

Betty opened her mouth to argue, but the nun turned and slammed the door, leaving Betty alone in the room once more. Digging her nails into her palm, re-opening the just-closing crescent moons, Betty let out a blood rotting scream, throwing herself onto the bed in despair. She slammed her fisted hands into the hard mattress, sobs coming out in parallel with screams.

\- - -

Twenty minutes later, Betty found herself pushing the heavy door of the small, bland room open, the scratchy blue fabric of the gown rubbing her skin and clutching her body in all the wrong places. Turned out there was also pants attached to the dress, and Betty opted to wear the same bra she put on that morning, since the sister’s hadn’t supplied anything besides the dress, shoes, and pants. 

**[ She recalled later that she didn’t even believe any of this was real; that she was just doing what the nun told her to because she was in some elaborate dream. The show must go on. ]**

The man standing outside her door hadn’t changed out of the bloody shirt, which gave Betty satisfaction, and he put his hand out to stop her, his sharp claws of nails inches away from her face. Gulping, she just pointed towards the window in her room. He nodded, letting her pass, and followed a few feet behind.

**[ There was no such thing as privacy at the reform center. We were constantly followed and watched. Sometimes they let us be, but that was only after a rare streak of submission. ]**

She found her way to the gardens quite easily, navigating her body through the chunky grey concrete halls, not getting lost once. When she stepped into the fresh air, tears automatically welled in her eyes, and she began running through the grass until she spotted a gazebo surrounded by bushes and benches. Making her way towards the outskirts, she found an outer circle, throwing herself on a bench. 

**[ The crying, as I remember her saying, was her facing the facts that the fresh, outdoor cool air was too real to be a dream, and she had stepped into reality. She was hit with the fact of this being her actual life like a ball to a face. ]**

She sat there for a time period she couldn’t account for, silently crying in the crisp November air, not bothered by anyone, even the distant present of her overlooker forgotten to her. She wondered what she had done for her mother to send her here, wondered what Archie must be thinking, wondered how long she’d be in this odd place, wondered if Archie and Veronica would come looking for her. 

She had spent so much time wondering that she didn’t notice the sound of boots crunching on dewy grass, the breath of another patient in the cool air. It wasn’t until the bench squeaked next to her and she felt the heat of another human that she noticed she had company. 

Betty looked up, and was surprised when she realised she was looking into the face of a ghost. 

**[ Personally, I believe that I couldn’t be a ghost since I hadn’t been gone** **_that_ ** **long, but she said that was the only way to describe what she was feeling. ]**

“Betty Cooper,” The boy said, and Betty blinked, making sure he was real. How could he be? He had moved almost a year ago, and Betty was sure of that. But, it seemed to Betty that no matter how many times she blinked, she was still met with the face of her primary school close friend Jughead Jones. “How did a girl like you end up here?” He asked, and Betty smiled at his voice, at his hair, at his face. At the reality of something that seemed like  _ home. _

Without thinking, she threw her arms around him, and he tentatively wrapped his own arms around her, confused at just why Betty Cooper was so excited to see him. He pushed her off a second later, and pointed at the man who had followed her to the garden when he saw her hurt look, and she nodded. 

**[ They always hated when we made physical contact with other ‘patients’ there. Brother’s and Sister’s were only allowed platonic embraces. If only I could count how many times a sister scolded us for that. ]**

“Juggie?” Betty finally said, scooting as close to him as she could without touching him, in fear of the man taking the only thing that felt like reality away. “I thought you moved to Toledo to stay with your mom and Jellybean?” Betty half stated half asked, already forming a guess in her head, and Jughead was touched by how Betty had remembered that fact. 

“Cover story,” He finally said, and Betty raised her brows and tilted her chin forward, the way she always did when she wanted someone to explain something. “Got in some trouble with the law because of the Serpents. Instead of sending me to jail, the court decided to send me here for  _ reform _ ,” Jughead explained, the  _ reform _ coming out of his mouth like venom. Betty tilted her head, her face lighting up with a guilty realisation. She was Betty Cooper, investigator extraordinar and she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t called.

“Juggie, that was a whole year ago,” She said, and he nodded, very much aware of the time that had passed. 

**[ Though the Sister’s tried to get me to stop, I marked every day on the walls of my room. The one thing I didn’t want to lose was the knowledge of the date and how long I’d been held, a sense of time, days passing. ]**

“Yeah, Betts, it was,” Jughead replied, and Betty placed her hand on his knee, hoping it didn’t look to passionate. He looked at her face and met her blood-red eyes and tear stained cheeks with a look of empathy. 

“I had no idea. You’ve been in this horrid place for a whole year and none of us knew! We would’ve come for you- I would’ve tried to-” Jughead rested his hand on the hand she had atop his knee, giving her a half-smile, cutting off her guilt trip. 

“Hey, don’t do that to yourself. You never  could’ve known. Not even the other Serpents knew,” He said, and she nodded, trying to convince herself he was right. “Besides, you’re here now,” He tried, and Betty snorted, snot leaving her nose. She wiped it with her arm, and Jughead watched her. Always a bad, snotty mess, snorting when crying.

From his perspective, he had never been extremely close with Betty. The only reason they had been friends was Archie. Of course, they ended up getting along really well, but they grew distant after Jughead decided to follow his father and become a Serpent, as did most of his Northside friends.

**[ Yeah, don’t judge me for it, either. I thought it was my destiny, just like how Alice Cooper thought the best way to help her daughter was to send her to a hellhole because of her religion and the advice of a few friends. ]**

A set of bells suddenly went off, and Betty jumped, but Jughead just patted the hand she had on his knee and stood. “What was that for?” Betty asked, and Jughead helped her up as she observed all the other patients headed inside, finding comfort in Jughead’s hand in hers. 

“Breakfast bell,” He informed her, and Betty nodded. She had many other questions she wanted to ask, but bit her tongue, literally, and kept all of her pent up emotions inside, stiffly falling in step with Jughead towards inside, their hands loosely brushing against each others at their sides. 

**[ For fear, I hate to say, of what would happen if she did let those emotions out. Denial is better than acceptance. And that, my readers, is a theme we see throughout this tale. ]**

**[ So there it was. The day when Alice Cooper sinned against her daughter, Archie Andrews left his girlfriend to hell, and Betty Cooper and I were reunited. That day, though none of us knew it at the time, was the day that jump started the beginning of Riverdale never being the same again. ]**


	2. The Accustomation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty becomes accustomed to what living at the Sisters is really like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops late update what else is new with me. Here's another chapter. Don't worry, I'm already working fast on editing the next chapter as well. Again, warning, this chapter is dark and has physical abuse/torture layered through it.   
> I don't own Riverdale!  
> Please enjoy!

**_2 : The Accustomation_ **

I like it, I'm not gonna crack / I miss you, I'm not gonna crack / I love you, I'm not gonna crack /I killed you, I'm not gonna crack (Lithium, Nirvana)

**[ And we round back to our tale. Are you still here? Are you still reading? I guess I’ll never know. C’mon, the tale can’t be worse than the treatment Betty Cooper was enduring. And that, my dear readers, is the topic of this next installment. Are you tuned in yet? Have I managed to pull you away from your day to day lives? Buckle up. ]**

Betty awoke the next morning screaming. She was used to night terrors, but this one was worse than any she’d ever experienced. Her screaming only continued when her vision cleared and she was met with a while ceiling and a white small room, and the remembrance that it hadn’t been a night terror. 

She took deep scalding breaths and remembered what Jughead had said the night before about acting as if everything was normal, and nothing was wrong. If she wasn’t screaming, she wasn’t crazy. If she wasn’t crazy, she was cured. If she was cured, she’d be released faster.

**[ I only said that phrase to make her feel better, since the Sister’s didn’t work like that, but it made me happy to know my words were the one’s getting her through a hard time. ]**

She breathed in deeply, pushing the white, scratchy bedsheets off her sweat drenched body, rubbing her cheeks in hopes of cooling them down from the warmth granted by her slumber. Now sitting up, she rested her elbows on her knees and head in her hands. Her whole core felt rotten, and her hands slid on her chin from the dispelled water.

She had no clue what the day would hold. For some reason, Jughead hadn’t told her about just  _ what _ the treatment was, saying they’d get in trouble for discussing it and that it was different for everyone. What preaching could stop her from accidentally stabbing her hands with her nails, biting her tongue, her anger cuts and punching walls? An easy one, she hoped.

Her search for answers disapparated when the same bell as the night before went off, this one signaling breakfast. Sighing, she pulled off the nightgown she had been given and pulled on the scratchy dress and pants once more, wanting to tear it to shreds with every ounce in her. 

When she opened the heavy door, a different watchman was posted there, and she gave him a nod towards the dining hall she had eaten dinner in the night before. He nodded back and she started down the hall towards it, watching as all the other female patients slowly grudged their way out of their rooms as well. 

**[ Yep, the Sisters were** **_that_ ** **Holy. We can’t even sleep in the same hall as our opposite sex ‘brothers’ or visa versa. They didn’t even understand what was happening in the present, but that didn’t bother them. ]**

Once she reached the dining hall she grabbed a tray and allowed the Sister’s to pile worthless and disgusting junk on her plate before scanning the lunchroom. She spotted Jughead in the corner table alone, the same as the night before, and headed in that direction, glad to see him. 

**[ Funny who a situation can bring together. ]**

She plopped her body down next to Jughead and looked at him, smiling slightly when she noticed he was snoozing in his hand. His lip was open and deep, quiet breaths were coming out of his mouth. His black hair was a mess, the strands going every which way. She wondered if he never slept, or if something specific happened after dinner the night before. 

Deciding not to wake his slumber, Betty picked up her fork and grudgingly dug into the oatmeal, frowning at the bland taste but pushing herself through a few more bites. She knew she wasn’t going to be strong enough to come up with some sort of escape or endurance plan if she was too busy fretting over her starvation. 

After a few more suffering bites, Jughead inhaled sharply, and Betty looked at him, recognising the sound as the ‘suddenly awoke from a nap’ sound. His eyes fluttered open to look at Betty’s face staring at him and he jumped slightly before giving her a soft smile. 

“Did I fall asleep before or after you sat?” He asked, looking down at his own food. Betty rolled her eyes and exhaled, realising he hadn’t touched his oatmeal. 

“Before, don’t worry,” She assured, and a look of relief came over his face. She remembered him as the kind of person who would fall asleep in the middle of someone talking. Apparently a year in a reform center didn’t change everything. 

**[ Not everything, but Betty would later find it surprising by just** **_what_ ** **it did change. ]**

“Tossing and turning night?” Betty asked, as if she somewhat understood it, and Jughead looked at her with a serious expression on his face. His hair was still facing all directions and Betty resisted the urge to reach out and pat it down. 

“Late night preaching session from a sister,” Was what he replied with, and Betty jutted her chin out and raised her brows, wanting to know more. When Jughead didn’t explain what that meant she gave up and shoved another lumpy bite of oatmeal down her throat. 

“No breakfast for you?” She asked, and Jug shook his head, his plate still untouched. He was being quieter than she remembered him to be. But, of course he was. Betty exhaled just as the bell signaling the end of the breakfast period went off. Jughead jumped and Betty looked at him once more. There was a look of urgency on his face. 

“Crap, thought we had more time,” He muttered, and Betty stilled. He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a raspy whisper. “Just do as they say. Don’t argue, don’t push back. Agree with them, even if they’re wrong. It’ll make it easier. You’ll get through it quicker.”

Betty nodded violently, marking his words down in his head and repeating them to herself. He’d been here longer, he was the wiser. 

**[ At the Sister’s, there was no wiser. Those who had been there for a decade were still just as naive as those who had been there for a week. It was still cute how Betty was living in a real world perspective, though. ]**

The sister from the day before, whom Betty remembered was Sister Livingston, approached the table and grabbed Jughead’s arm, pulling him to his feet. Betty’s hands went out on impulse and she grabbed his other hand, but he shook his head. She replayed his words in her head.  _ Don’t argue, don’t push back _ . 

“Forsythe, your treatment from last night is to be completed now. Go to the same room you were in yesterday. Continue the task. And stay off your new sister. She is much holier than you, child.” 

Jughead nodded and gave Betty a look that he hoped looked encouraging before leaving, his feet dragging against the concrete floor. Betty looked at the sister, swallowing. Now that she was alone with her, the threat felt more impending.  _ Don’t argue, don’t push back. Just do as they say. _

**[ What piss poor advice I had given Betty. I had no small role in this tale, now piecing it together and writing it in full. ]**

“Follow me, child,” Sister Livingston said, and Betty stood, looking around the room at the other patients leaving as well. She didn’t want to follow the Sister, but it looked as if others might have been headed in the same direction, so she followed the clothed nun out of the dining hall and into the hallway next to the male dorms. 

She watched the walls as she followed the nun, the lights dimming and population of patients decreasing significantly. Swallowing, she  averted her eyes to scanning the walls instead of in front of her. She find it no more comforting, though, considering many of the rooms were empty and dark, and every door had a reinforced lock of some kind on it. 

**[ How ironic that these rooms weren’t even half as bad as some of the other chambers the sisters had. It truly was a dungeon. ]**

“This way,” The nun said, stepping back to allow her guard, who Betty decided to name Claw, because of his sharp fingernails and large hands, to open the door. He twisted the steel and popped the door open, grabbing Betty’s arm and shoving her in. Betty turned as watched as the door clicked shut behind Sister Livingston. 

The first thing Betty noticed was that there was no windows. The room was fully sealed. Even the door was windowless, and, by the looks of the material of the walls, it was probably soundproof as well. There was various pieces of metal lining the walls, reminding her of the mechanical tools she used when fixing a car or working in the stop. 

She didn’t move, rooting her feet in place, painting Archie and Veronica’s lovely, smiling faces in the back of her head to drown her fear. How she missed her friends, even if they were unwittingly falling for each other. She would take it all back, would give her soul to go back and be with them, even if she was the third wheel. 

**[ A soul, unfortunately, is something that could easily be taken by another if enough is given by both people. I’m talking metaphorical, not supernatural. Soul’s are easily exchangeable items. All one needs is a little evil. ]**

“Go grab one of those bars,” The nun ordered, her voice emotionless. Suppressing a shudder, Betty tentatively walked over to the wall on her left and picked up one of the pieces, forcing her body to hold in the grunt she wanted to release and the heavy weight. “I want you to stack them.” 

Betty stopped back in the middle of the room where she had been standing before and looked to the sister. “Come again?” She asked politely as she could. There was no way she could stack all the pieces. Some were round and some were square, and they were too skinny to be stacked vertically. 

“Stack them. However you like, vertical or not,” The Sister informed, knocking on the door three times. “You have an hour. If they all aren’t stacked in a stable pile in an hour, there will be consequences.”

The door opened, and the nun exited, the door slamming shut behind her. Betty turned her head and looked at the pieces of metal. She was Betty Cooper. She was smart enough to figure this out. 

**[ Now is the time I shall notice everyone that this tale just becomes darker word by word. I know most are too glued to their seats to care, but it only goes downhill from here. Yes, Betty Cooper was smart, but she didn’t know that even if she stacked them all, no difference would be made. You’ve been warned. ]**

\- - -

Betty slammed a fatter bar into the wall for what had to have been the tenth time, her breathing ragged. She’d only managed to stack all of the flat bars, and she knew that her hour was almost up. So, being herself, she’d resorted to other methods. 

**[ Of course, she knew the metal didn’t even dent the wall, but it still made her feel better, she told me. ]**

A screech sounded, and Betty held the bar up, ready to swing at whoever walked through the door. A second later, Claws came storming in, his body looking alert. Jughead’s words forgotten, Betty swung the metal bar at Claws with all her might. He dodged, grabbing her arm and twisting. She gritted her teeth and dropped the bar, the pain in her forearm causing her grip to loosen. 

She cursed under her breath and growled at Claws, but he just looked forward, his face disgruntled. He gave a shout of some kind that reminded Betty of the warning calls bird’s gave in the forest around predators. Sister Livingston sashayed her way in a moment after the squak. 

She surveyed the room, her eyes landing on Betty and the bar on the ground. The nun clicked her tongue, and Betty held her ground, keeping her snarl on her face. She didn’t care what Jug had said, she wanted out. She would get out, go home. 

Claws released her arm, and Betty, being too lost in her body language, didn’t hear the metal bar she dropped being picked up off the ground until she was flying. Betty felt herself slam into the wall across from where she had been standing milliseconds ago, pain shooting through her entire body, her head aching from the impact. She pushed herself up from where she was now splattered on the ground, leaning her body back on the wall. 

**[ The sister’s loved that element of surprise. It was just human nature, is what they told us. Surprise pain taught humans to never commit the same mistakes twice. The question was, tough, why sometimes, we made that mistake thrice, just in another form? ]**

Through a dizzy vision she saw Claws, the metal bar still in hand, grinning at her. Sister Livingston kneeled, and Betty blinked, trying to clear her eyes. Still seeing in triple vision, she observed the nun reach her hand up and touch Betty’s cheek. 

“You’ve got a long way to go, Child,” The nun stated, and Betty grinded her teeth, her vision finally beginning to clear up. “Seems that’s enough bar stacking for you today. Now, stand.” 

Betty did, using the wall to hold her up. The sister guided her out of the steel room and down the hall. Betty didn’t even turn and try to run, she could feel Claws breathing down her neck. Jug had been right. 

When her escorts finally made it to her living quarters, she almost sighed in relief when she saw the boy himself, his black hair still sticking up. He was being lectured by another Sister about something. Their eyes met and his lightened for a split second, causing the pain in her body to dull. 

**[ I was being lectured about keeping my hands off the other patients. I remember it because it was as if they** **_knew_ ** **Betty and I had a past. It smelled rotten. ]**

The eye contact was broken by force, though Betty had a feeling it could’ve gone on forever, just the two of them, facing this rotten evil, like some fairytale. Sister Livingston stopped abruptly, and Betty found herself almost running into her. Pivoting, she was eye to eye with Betty, only a few inches on her. Betty looked at the Sister. She couldn’t have noticed her an Jug’s friendship already? 

She nodded her head and Betty saw the ceiling as Claws, in slow motion, rammed the bar that she hadn’t even realised he kept, straight into her stomach. Betty’s back hit the wall, her knees slamming against the ground a second later. Her eyes swam in her head, and all she could hear was a scream echoing throughout her mind. 

She forced her eye’s open at his voice. He was across the hall still, though one of Claws pals was pinning him to the wall as he reached for her, his eyes wide and worried. He was shoving at the guard, and through her blurry vision she met his brown eyes. He looked like a hero, and Betty knew she was living a fairytale.

**[ I am anything but a hero, I assure all readers. No fairytales here, only nonfiction events. ]**

“Juggie, no,” She half-whispered, half-mouthed, the attempt at talking sending her into a fit of coughing. She refused to let Jughead get hurt just because she couldn’t follow the one piece of advice he gave her. 

**[ Little did she know, we were both going to be hurt, no matter how we went about life. ]**

Sister Livingston opened the door to Betty’s quarter/cell, and Claws shoved her in, Betty skidding on her knees. “You’re on room arrest until lunch. Don’t defy your order’s again. Healing will come your way, the lord has ordered it.”

She didn’t even bother to look back at the sister, her body aching too badly. All she heard was the click of the door before she crawled across the floor and hauled herself onto the bed, passing out only seconds later, the pain undertoning through her sleep.

\- - -

Betty woke to a consistent knock on her door. For a second, she thought it was her mom, about to storm into the room declaring she was late for family breakfast. 

Betty groaned, sitting up slowly, every bone in her body sore, as if she had run a marathon up a mountain, only to roll down the mountain after getting to the top, over rocks and all. She yawned and opened her eyes painfully, looking through the window at her door to see who was banging on her door. 

Her vision defrosting, she spotted that familiar black hair and nearly jumped out of her bed at the sight of him. How did he even get to her door without getting in trouble. She stood, realising she still had her shoes on, and made her way to the door fast as she could, his friendly face a good motivator. 

The door clicked open just as Betty reached for the handle, Claws glaring gaze coming over her as she stepped outside of her guarantee. She gave him a salute since there was no sister in sight, and then turned to Jughead.

He looked wary as well, and there was a purple bruise on his cheek that hadn’t been there earlier. She lifted her hand to touch it subconsciously, and he flickered his eyes towards where Claws was rooted behind her.

Getting his message, she dropped her hand. “Lunch,” He informed her, and Betty bobbed her head, walking painstakingly slowly next to him towards the cafeteria. “Feeling any Holier?” He asked, and Betty couldn’t help but snort. She didn’t care how drastic the situation was, Jughead was hilarious. 

**[ What can I say? Sardonic humour is just my way of relating to the world. ]**

“Extremely. In fact, you should probably step away. You’re distance has satan’s desires written all over it,” She remarked, and Jug let out a surprised scoff, proceeding to step closer instead. His fingers brushed her, and the pain in her arm seemed to thaw. 

As they entered the lunchroom, Betty thought of Archie, and how Jughead just touching her hand shouldn’t make her feel that alive. She didn’t feel bad, though. He was already in love with Veronica, and she knew the two had probably kissed by now. Maybe even before she was taken. It was a shock that she hadn’t realised yet. She was accustomed to Archie and Veronica. So what if she let him go? 

The two had reached their table at the back, food trays in hand, by the time Betty had come to this conclusion. So, when Jughead sat, she sat right next to him. Enough to put a surprised look on his face, but not enough to piss of the nuns. 

**[ In my defense, I had no idea about Archie. ]**

As she began shoving the mush down her throat, she observed, for the first intent time, him. His bangs hung over her forehead, though she could see they covered a few scars, which was probably why he kept them so low. 

He was lean, but not in a lanky way. She knew he had muscle. No one was a serpent while being a stick. She eyed his right arms, but the short sleeves must’ve covered the iconic tattoo. What she could see was an array of scars along both of his forearms and up his biceps. 

The rumours didn’t lie about the dangerous part. 

She stopped, realising where her eyes were headed, and looked up, to see him studying her as well. Feeling heat on her cheeks, she took another bite of the mush and looked at his eyes, instead. “You’re used to being hurt.” 

She was slightly surprised by her words, but not too much. She knew she was forward. When she was curious, she asked. When she thought someone was wrong, she shared. Honesty, what a concept. 

He, obviously, hadn't forgotten this fact about her, considering how he just nodded. “You’ve probably heard the rumours,” He supplied, and she shrugged, wanting him to go on.    
“Ghoulie’s, rivalling gang. They’ve been stirring up trouble for a while. Mean’s lots of fights. Even fight’s that put me here.” 

Betty realised that was all she was going to get if she didn’t get back. So, she opened her palms and showed them to him. He didn’t react, just gave her a look of understand. “Drove mom over the edge. Guess she thought she should send me to a holy place.” 

“I remember your mom being an interesting one,” Jughead supplied. Betty lowered her hands, but he grabbed one, lightly rubbing his calloused thumb over the scars. She looked up from their hands and met his eyes. What was it about him? 

“You two. Stand.” 

Betty and Jughead froze, turning their heads in unison to find themselves face to face with two of the sisters. Betty swallowed, not liking Sister Livingston’s face. 

**[ We are brothers and sisters, nothing more. Our bonds are sacred, holy. It was hard for two teenagers who longed for the touch of another, one who was willing to offer a sense of belonging. ]**

**[ We clung to each other, because we had no other option. We would go insane if we didn’t, but we were punished for it. Betty didn’t know it, but she had saved me from making a decision I would probably regret. Her humanity reminded me of the outside, and it pulled me back. ]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat with me on tumblr @AKBruce


	3. The Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty admits one of her darkest secrets and seems to pay the price for it. Jughead and Betty come to a realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! So appreciate the old and new readers! Still having a blast writing this fic.  
> Just a TRIGGER WARNING that there is attempted rape and a strong bit of non-con in this chapter. Please read at your own risk.  
> With that being said, enjoy! Your comments and kudos are everything!

**_Chpt 3: The Realisation_ **

_ Rape me, my friend / Hate me / Do it and do it again / Waste me / Rape me, my friend / I'm not the only one (Rape Me, Nirvana)  _

**[ I see I’ve drawn you back, reader. Or maybe you have nothing else to do, guess we’ll never know. Nonetheless, you get to continue in this tale as it begins formulating. All good tale’s need a strong foundation, our’s being no exception. ]**

**[ Betty and I got off the hook at lunch the previous day. I got off with discipline I don’t remember, and Betty claims to not remember her’s either. So, our tale now skips ahead, to the next afternoon, starting right off in the pit. Be warned, the light at the end of the tunnel is dormant, still. ]**

“Tell me why.”

Betty gnashed her teeth but stayed quiet, cursing every possible horrible event she could muster up in her brain at Sister Livingston. Her feet burned and she was becoming numb in her hands, but she willed her mouth closed. 

**[ She didn’t know why, she admitted later, and so she actually** **_couldn’t_ ** **answer the question. ]**

The nails were digging into her feet, and she knew that her weak skin wouldn’t be able to handle the nailboard much longer. She needed an out, another way. One book fell of the stack in Betty’s left hand, causing her palm to wobble. 

“Your form is hideous. You endure this pain, just so you don’t have to admit what makes you unholy,” The Sister continued, and Betty shut her out, focusing on maintaining a constant stream of steadiness throughout her arms. If she could walk the rest of the way without dropping anymore books, she may be able to avoid the question. 

**[ Wrong. The two are woven to each other, even if the two are in seperate states of the conscious. ]**

“You will fall, Betty. Just as you fell away from Him when you began to harm yourself,” Sister Livingston’s shrill voice was rising, like a high pitched bird. Betty took another step, her legs now further apart, the nails freshly sinking in the delicate skin of her feet, reopening some scars from earlier in the walk. “You’d rather break your body than heal your soul. Look at yourself. Consider how you harm yourself.” 

Betty weighed the other option, remembering Jug’s words from the day before. Maybe, in this scenario, he was right. Making some crap up about why she accidentally hurt herself could be better than continuously ripping into her feet and an ache in her arms she knew would last for days. 

Finally giving in, Betty racked her mind for a convincing reason. Her life was good, that was the problem. Yeah, her parents were controlling and her sister had run away after threats, but that was the most action she had ever seen in her life. That was the only hardship she could call on herself,  _ if _ that even did count as hardship. 

“My boyfriend and bestfriend have been in love since the day she showed up in Riverdale with her beautiful black hair and icy spirit,” Betty spat out, lowering her voice so she sounded pathetic. Livingston wanted a sap-show, Betty would give her that times a thousand. 

**[ The Sister’s couldn’t help but feel ‘obliged’ to heal a soul whose heart had been broken and needed the Lord’s healing hand. Betty Cooper and the mind that saved her from all situations. ]**

“I endured it, not saying anything. Arch… he said he only had eyes for me, but I knew he was forming stronger feelings. His denial was true. But we’d been best friends forever, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by breaking up with him. So… well… I guess I resorted to other methods…” 

Betty lowered her head, dropping the books dramatically, ignoring the pain that flared along her legs at the ricashew of glass that scratched along her calves from the books impact. Betty didn’t dare look up, instead focusing her eyes on the little trails of blood running towards her feet. 

“See child? You’ve cleared your mind,” The nun said stiffly. Betty held in her sigh of relief. Thank goodness she’d taken drama all those years ago. “Now, come here.”

Betty looked up at the Sister. She was only halfway across the nails, and she had admitted her defeat. Why’d she still have to walk across the rest of the nails? She did sigh this time, taking a deep breath and then sprinting across the nails until she was at the end and taking a jump down from the board.

**[ Punishment, just for extra measures. No mistakes twice, remember? ]**

She landed right on her knees, the skin ripping. Raising her head from the ground she looked at Sister Livingston’s shoes and took a shaky inhale, her lower lip wobbling. The threat of tears was coming rapidly, and she wasn’t sure if that would be a good part of the act or not. 

The nun knelt, her unscathed knees against the cement ground entering Betty’s vision. A moment later her soft skin met Betty’s chin, raising it so she was forced to meet the monster’s eyes. They were bright, reminding Betty for a quick moment of her mother’s eyes when she attempted to comfort Betty from a bad situation.

The tears fell then, and Betty didn’t try to stop them. The nun clicked her tongue, Betty holding in the snot that was threatening to cascade down her nose. Her tears hit the floor, but, still, Sister said nothing. 

Drip. Plop. Drop. Plop. On and on. Faster and faster. 

The pale-faced woman released Betty’s chin, rising to her feet slowly. Betty’s pain began to set in as the adrenaline rush faded away, but she kept her head up, her eye’s still on the sister’s face. She wondered what time it was, where Jug was. She needed his words to steady her. His humour to make her forget. 

**[ Ever touching that I could stabalise her while I, myself, was unstable. Oh how the wind flows. ]**

Betty watched with growing worry at Sister Livingston, who continued to just stare at Betty, watching the tears stream down her cheeks. Maybe Betty should have made an attempt to hold her tears in? 

The Sister pivoted on her heel suddenly, walking across the long room towards the steel door, her head turned to the nail walk. Betty hoped the Sister felt some pain from seeing her crusted blood on the nails. 

The nun made it to the door, stopping with her hand on the handle. Instead of opening it though, she just stiffened her back, and Betty braced herself for a sudden, painful surprise. “It’s free time. You may go watch a film, go to your quarters or go to the garden. Please stay wise child.”

Betty dropped her eyes from the door and onto the ground, looking at where her tears had pooled together with her blood at her knees. Bracing her hands on the ground, she pushed up and managed to get one foot against the concrete. Inhaling sharply and grinding her teeth she lifted the other leg, now in a crouch with both feet flat on the cold ground. 

She lifted her head and looked at Sister Livingston, who was still planted with a palm on the door handle, her back facing Betty. Wondering what the nun wanted from her, Betty pushed up, falling back against the wall that was a few feet behind her for support. 

**[ It often felt as if the nun’s did actually have a soul, that they sometimes realised just how much their crazy torture methods hurt patients. It also felt that they did want patients to bond, in the way that they constantly gave Betty and I second chances. ]**

**[ Or maybe it was just us ‘brother’s and sister’s’ hoping that those who were practically now raising us felt love for us deep in their hearts. The optimism of a damaged teenager can be alarming. ]**

\- - -

Many hard minutes later Betty found herself halfway across the hall that her cell was in. She had been dragging her arms along the wall, putting most of her weight against the unrelenting surface. So, her pace was not that of a speedsters. 

**[ FYI, Betty told me that she referred to her living quarters as a ‘cell’ in her brain, because that’s what it felt like it was to her. ]**

She made it to the spiraling steps that led down and straight out into the back porch. Frowning down at them, she weighed her options. Jughead was probably in the garden since that’s where he like spending most of his time, and she really needed his voice right now. But, she didn’t think she could make it down the stairs. 

“Need some help?” Betty jumped, quivering at the pain in the arch of her feet. Reluctantly straining her neck, Betty turned to see a strong built boy that looked to be around her age leaning against the wall behind her. She sized him up, shocked at how much his build reminded her of Archie. 

She shook her head no and turned away from him, proceeded to force a few more steps towards the stairs. Why would anyone bother talking to her? She was just another lunatic. 

**[ I will always admire Betty’s total oblivion to just how gorgeous she really is, ‘** **_lunatic_ ** **’ or no. ]**

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned her whole body this time, her feet and sore stomach  _ really _ not appreciating the quick movement. Grabbing his hand, she pulled it off her shoulder and then released his wrist, watching it drop to his side. “No. Thanks.” 

This time he grabbed her right arm, pulling her towards the dark corner underneath the stairway that descended to her cell’s level from above. She couldn’t push him off, some of the scars on her feet reopening at the strain against the ground. 

Hissing she recoiled as he grabbed her left arm as well, slamming her back against the cold concrete wall. The corner was dark and secluded enough for no one to notice any funny business, and Betty immediately attempted to kick her legs out, her knees groaning in protest. 

“What’s wrong with you? Stop moving,” He ordered, and Betty did nothing of the sort, attempting to pull her pinned hands off the wall. She had no clue what this dickwad wanted, but she knew it was nothing even close to ‘good.’

**[ I would point out that good is almost as relative of a term as love. One can interpret the word good as they wish. ]**

“Stop, leave me alone!” Betty argued, raising her voice in hopes of Claws hearing her. He couldn’t be far, he never was. Why the one time Claws gave her legitimate space she had to run into a nuthead? 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Betty froze at how acidic his tone had gotten. She watched as he licked his lips and shuddered in disgust as he lowered his head down, his breath hot on her neck. Hacking her voice as loud as she could, she screamed help, just as one of his hands came down over her mouth, the other quickly grabbing her exposed wrist and pinning it over her head. 

It was helpless. She felt helpless. She had no one. Who could save her if she couldn’t even save herself? 

“I can smell it off your struggle,” He continued, his disgusting tongue making contact with her neck, fresh tears falling down Betty’s just-dried cheeks, her legs kicking out at nothing as he made his way up towards her face. “You haven’t broken yet. Don’t fear though, I’ll help. Hush now.”

Betty was full on sobbing, and she squeezed her eyes shut, once again picturing Veronica and Archie in her head, this time Jughead popping up as well. She pictured their smiles as teeth pricked at her neck, causing her back to arch in pain, the skin of her neck slowly breaking at the harsh biting. 

And then, suddenly, the weight atop her way gone, and her wrists were released. Betty sunk to the ground against the wall, rubbing the now bleeding spot on her neck and then slowly opening her eyes to see her hero in a full on fist fight. 

**[ Why she always refers to me as her hero, I’ll never get. I’m not a hero. None of us are. I’m an antihero, simple as that. ]**

“Betts? Betty? Are you okay?” His voice was beautiful, and Betty’s eyes fell on Claws and one of his pal’s, who were slowly dragging the struggling boy down the hall. She watched as they turned down the hall that led to where she had just come from. Served the fucker right. 

Her eyes shifted to Jughead, who was now kneeling in front of her, his eyes as worried as she had ever seen them. There was something else in them, though, that made her pause. It took her a second to identify the look as anger. She hadn’t ever seen Jughead angry.

She didn’t say anything but just continued to stare into his eyes. Slowly, she observed his hand reach out, landing on her trembling cheek, sliding slowly down towards where the boy had shoved his filthy teeth into her neck. She didn’t move, didn’t think she could even if she tried. She wanted to jump out of her skin. It was dirty. 

That was, until Jughead let out a growl. All her hate melted away and she looked at him in shock at his violence. She hadn’t seen him like this. Raising her head she met his eyes and tediously raised her arms from where they were curled around her knees, lowering her knees slightly, allowing Jug to come closer. 

**[ Betty was right. I wasn’t violent when she knew me. But, I had changed. Seeing people you love get hurt can change anyone from a regular man to a juvenile in seconds. ]**

She opened her arms and he moved the arm he had rested on her neck and wrapped it around her body, the other slowly following. He pulled her into his chest, sitting himself onto the ground, enabling his entire body to wrap around her. 

The tears began again and she quietly sobbed into his chest, feeling his warm hands stroking his hair. She never wanted to leave, wanted to stay safe with him wrapped around her forever. 

“Never again,” He murmured, and Betty’s trembling began to subside, just the grumble of his voice coming from his chest comforting. “I will keep you safe, I promise.”

Betty’s tears stopped and she raised her head from his chest to meet his eyes, the weight of his promise hitting her, though not in a bad way. It meant a lot, and would be a huge burden for him to carry. She gave a weak smile and he kissed her forehead. She nuzzled her head into his chest once more. 

For once, it was okay she couldn’t save herself. It didn’t matter, because he would help, if not fully save her.

\- - -

“If only your mom knew that she threw you into a holy place just to meet up with an old friend who’s the opposite of holy.”

Betty scoffed and ran her fingers through her hair before pushing the thick blonde locks behind her ears. She looked down at the grass beneath them. If only her mom knew that she threw her daughter into a healing center just to get assaulted. 

“She’d have gotten Archie out of your life just to replace him with someone equally as despicable,” His sarcastic voice rumbled onto her back through his chest, Betty loved the feeling of his voice coursing through her. What was happening with her? 

**[ In my defense, I had no idea that she had been dating Archie or that Veronica was doing goods with him. I didn’t even know Veronica. ]**

“Archie was only half in my life, anyways,” She stated, and felt rather than heard Jughead’s shock against her back. Had she forgotten to tell him about Veronica and Archie? Did he even know who Veronica was? 

A breeze picked up, and Betty almost sighed in delight at the refreshing air. After the event, Sister Livingston had let her off her healing for the rest of the night and the day after, saying that this was something that required self-healing. So, in exchange for Betty not telling her mom about the event, the nun allowed her to sit outside for the night with Jughead.

They were settled in the grass, Jughead’s back against a large tree, Betty settled against his stomach, his arms wrapped around her. It was nice, and just the perfect amount of warmth she needed. 

“Half? Guess I’ve been in here longer than I thought,” Jughead said, and Betty experienced a pang in her stomach. Juggie would not like learning what his best friend had been up to, but she couldn’t lie to him. 

**[ No one likes to hear about their best friend being a shithole. It’s like you yourself were being a shithole without even doing anything. ]**

“My best friend, Veronica Lodge, moved from New York just around the same time you disappeared. Ever since her arrival, Archie’s only had his eyes on one girl,” Betty explained, closing her eyes and playing with Jughead’s large fingernails. “He can’t help himself. They’re meant for each other, anyone could spot that. How could I openly break both of their hearts, even when they deny it?”

She felt Jug sigh and moved her head from his chest to right next to his armpit, giving her more access to his heat. He didn’t resist, just shifted his legs and pulled her closer. 

“I’m sorry, Betts,” He said, and Betty appreciated the sincerity in his voice. From the sounds of his tone, he’d probably had the same thing happen to him, or something quite similar. “I think I’ve heard that name before, though.” 

Betty opened her eyes and twisted her head slightly against the side of his chest so she could look up at his face. “What do you mean?” She asked. There was no way Jughead could know Veronica. Unless it was just rumours?

**[ As fast as rumours flowed, there was no way I would’ve heard Lodge through rumours. Though, at the time, Betty and I hadn’t even considered the outcome of this tale being plausible. ]**

“Yeah, Lodge…” His words drifted off and Betty squeezed her eyes shut on why he could’ve heard Lodge before. Seemed improbable. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Archie isn’t here, so you’re stuck with half me, I guess.” 

Betty guffawed at that comment and paused her playing with his fingernails to weave their fingers together. “You’re much more than Archie’s pathetic half,” She informed, and Juggie gave one of those small smiles she remembered. 

**[ Remembering just how much the Sisters wanted patients to be brothers and sisters, them allowing Betty and I to be so close for so long was impressive. Just showed they valued their income and reputation than their patients unholy interactions. ]**

“Jug, can I ask a personal question?” She asked quietly, and his eyes lost the ‘caught in a memory’ glaze, his race dawning a weary look. She waited, but he didn’t say no. “How’d you get the option of coming here instead of jail?” 

He untwined their fingers, and Betty was scared he’d push her off him, but he just reached up and ran his hand through his thick black hair. He was looking up, but Betty sensed he wasn’t really  _ looking _ . His brown eyes were gazing towards the clouds. 

It hit her then, like a gust had drawn up a branch and had launched it on her forehead, just how much he meant to her. Of course he meant something to her, he reminded her of the outside world, but there was a deeper part she hadn’t identified. He was seemingly beautiful in every aspect. His mind, his soul, his heart, his face, his body. Every part of him was authentically Jughead, and she adored it. 

He finally looked down to meet her eyes and Betty was pulled out of her admiration fest, pulled back into the serious question she had asked. 

“Some guy, believe it or not. He said that the court would send me to jail, but, if I accepted a lawyer from him, I could go to some place safer with a quicker release time,” He recited the words, as if reading them off a document. “He said if I said no then his boss, ‘Papa Poutine’ would make sure I never made it out of jail. So, I didn’t really have a choice.”

Betty’s world stopped at his last sentence, her torso whipping of his chest. She shifted her body quickly so her chest was facing his, half-straddling him. He looked shocked, and she replayed his words speedily, bopping herself up and down in anticipation of a mystery, not believing it.

**[ Who wouldn’t feel a little shocked? Geez, Betts. Always making me sound like the weaker of the pair. ]**

“Are you sure that was the name? Papa Poutine?” She demanded, and he nodded. Betty bit her lip, considering just what she was hearing. Was the world really that small? It couldn’t be. 

“Strand of grass for your thoughts?” Jug joked, and Betty realised how confused he must be. She smiled at him and slapped the strand of grass his was holding in front of her face out of his hand, watching it drift onto the ground. How could he manage to turn her Nancy Drew mind to a mushy joke in a second?

**[ Humour. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say it. Humour is the best way to force a serious conversation more casual. It saves us all. ]**

“Papa Poutine was the one who threatened Polly, the reason she had to run away from home with her kids…” Betty drifted off, pieces falling together in her mind. Was it all one big jigsaw puzzle, or was it a bunch of random pieces that happened to be placed next to each other? “I’ll bet that’s not a coincidence.” 

“Hell no,” Jughead replied, shifting to sit up straighter against the tree. It was then Betty realised just how close she had put the two of them when her shock allowed her to straddle him. Swallowing, she shoved away the anticipation her body was spiraling through her blood. “Do you think-”

“That they were involved in my locking up as well?” She finished for him, and he nodded, their two brains thinking in sync. She knew that he was thinking her next thought as well, but she decided she’d vocalise it anyways. “It’s definitely something to consider. Juggy, I know we were going to try to wait our way out of here, but, I dunno, maybe we should rethink that.”

“Betts,” Jughead said, and Betty looked at him, surprised at how serious he had managed to get in a split second. “Over my rotted corpse we’re not digging into this. Papa Poutine is not a silly coincidence or a common name,” Jughead pledged, and Betty bobbed her head back at him before falling into his chest, wrapping her arms around him in a hug driven from relief. 

**[ So we’d finally managed to grab the first clue to our impending confinement. It’d only taken us days to realise all we needed was to communicate and work together. How funny is it that those necessary to a friendship can be so easily forgotten.]**

**[ But, as we began to plan, we had no idea that it was much bigger than just one salty man. It was a scheme, and we were pawns. Who ever takes learning they’re a mere pawn well though? No one. They manipulate the game until they’re a higher ranking player. Which was just what one Betty Cooper was unknowingly doing. ]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat with me on tumblr @AKBRuce!


	4. The First Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead want answers, and they're willing to go to lengths to get them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another chapter. Hope everyone enjoys, I'm actually having so much fun writing this and it's been smooth sailing writing wise so far. Please let me know if you're enjoying the narration. Comments and kudos fuel my inspiration.   
> Chat with me on tumblr @AKBruce !

**_Chapter 4: The First Warning_ **

_ She should have stayed away from friends / She should have had more time to spend / She should have died when she was born / She should have worn the crown of thorns (Been a Son, Nirvana) _

**[ Back again? Would say I’m surprised, but this is one of the most enticing tales one could read. I would know, I was interested enough to write about it. So, where did I leave off on Betty Cooper’s journey? Aw, yes, the only freedom we’d get to be the two of us from the sisters. And what better way to spend it then to break the rules? ]**

“I don’t know, Betts, there’s always someone guarding that room. Hell knows who we could bump into,” Jughead whisper shouted at Betty across the lunch bench, his eyes darting around the room. Claws had left them alone, probably because the Sister’s had promised Betty more freedom if she didn’t let her assault get out to the public. She didn’t know how long the freedom last, but damn Sweetwater River if she wasn’t going to use it. 

She shoved her fork into the burnt oatmeal, mushing it around. She still couldn’t eat, even though it’d been a full day since the incident. Who expected her to have an appetite, though? Anyone in her position wouldn’t eat. “What if we can somehow find a reason to go there?” She proposed, and Jughead jutted his chin out, scrunching his eyes in thought. 

**[ Betty says that’s what I do with my face when I’m thinking, but I can promise that she is just describing me like that to be bothersome. ]**

“You mean to say we get ourselves in trouble?” Jughead asked, and Betty nodded, motioning for him to lean forward. He did, tilting his torso arosst the table so she could whisper to him better. 

“I mean to say we cause a distraction,” She clarified, and Jug raised his brows, shoving a piece of soggy fruit into his mouth after leaning back once more. In the corner of her vision, Betty saw the Nun who was usually with Jughead eyeing the pair, so she leaned back as well. 

The Sisters had been watching her carefully, barely holding themselves back from charging her and Jughead’s scandalous behaviour. Some watched with shame, others watched with fear. They must’ve though she and Jug were conspiring over how they’d get the story out. Selfish hogs. 

“We got a watcher?” Jughead inquired, and Betty nodded, offering a fake smile to make it look like they were involved in pleasant conversation.  

**[ Though Betty’s fake smile looks more like a terrible attempt at getting someone in her bed, which probably didn’t calm the sisters the way Betty intended. ]**

“What’s the distraction, then?” Jughead moved back into his whisper shout voice, lifting his hands from the tray of burnt food to run his fingers through his hair. Betty watched them swim through the black locks, causing them to stick out from where they had been semi-laid down. The motion made her toes curl, and not in the way they did when her body was too cold. 

“Well, it can’t involve either of us, obviously,” Betty began, just as the bell for the end of breakfast chimed, Betty blowing her breath out in frustration. Jughead scoffed and stood, grabbing both their plates and trashing them. She stood, going to his side and following him out the door, towards the opposite hall of her cell.

It was movie day, whatever that meant, and Jughead had given out the idea of the two going out to the garden alone, if they could make it. Heading against the current of patients headed in the opposite direction towards the movie rooms, Jughead took her hand and began to pull her. She almost tripped of her feet but managed to steady herself, surprised at Jug’s hidden strength. 

When they reached the door to the garden they discovered it was locked. Jughead pulled on it, and Betty joined in as well, but they had no such luck. When Betty turned to head back towards the movie rooms, she noticed the hall was completely empty, an idea surging into her brain without an invitation. 

“How’s movie day for a distraction?” Betty offered, tugging on Jughead’s shirt until he turned and saw the empty hall as well. He looked down at her and she raised a single brow, motioning her arms out. “I don’t know where the file room is. You lead the way, fearless leader.”

He snorted but didn’t argue, stepping ahead of her and slowly treading down the empty hall. She followed, pulling her squeaky sandals off her feet after a few steps. With her bare feet, she barely made a sound, and Jughead’s shoes were already quiet anyways. 

They reached the end of the hall, and Jughead put a hand out, forcing Betty to stop behind the shield of his arm and wait as he peered over the corner. After a thorough inspection he grabbed her free hand, the one not gripping her sandals, and pulled her across the entry hall and to the right, down the hall Betty had only been down when being punished. 

**[ Interesting, I always thought, that they kept the files and office’s separate. The Office’s were all at the front, where the main lobby was, while the files were tucked all the way back in one of the back halls. Hidden, for most patients. Quite a travel for a nun to pick up a single file. ]**

Only a third of the way into the hall, Betty had already formed goosebumps along her arms and legs. It wasn’t too long ago she’d been down this hall and in one of the rooms, but it still felt like extreme PTSD. It was probably intended by the sisters, for the inmates to be naturally scared when embarking down this hall. 

A loud bang sounded from a closed steel door just on their left, followed by a gut-wrenching scream, causing Betty to jump and Jughead to move faster. She didn’t dare open her mouth or say anything to him, for fear of getting caught. She didn’t know how gracious the event  _ really _ made the sisters, and she didn’t want to find out. 

The pair finally made it to the end of the hall, Betty’s hand asleep from Jughead’s tight grip on her wrist, though it didn’t hurt. He made a sharp turn into a corridor Betty didn’t even notice, though they were met with a locked door. Betty looked around, making a full circle, before spotting a mechanical lockbox on the floor next to the doorframe. 

“Bingo!” Betty whispered to herself. This was a basic lockbox, one she knew the mechanisms of, because of it’s basic frame. Every mechanic she’d ever talked to always told her the path towards making a career was memorising the tells of basic mechanical schemes. 

**[ Though Betty’s account makes it sound simple and easy, I was there, and I remember this to be a true work of wonder. I didn’t have a clue on the schematics, but she knew immediately. A true work of smarts from Miss Betty Cooper. ]**

She nodded towards the opening from the corridor to the hall, Jughead catching her instructions and going to watch the hall. She then bent down, resting on her knees with a cringe at the resting soreness still in her legs. Pushing her pain away, Betty put one of her sandals down and unbuckling the other so the metal piece of the buckle was exposed, unscrewing the nails on the lockbox with the flat end of the buckle. 

She grinned when the cover came off, the key sitting there in all it’s glory, begging her to take it. She grabbed it with the bottom of her skirt to eliminate fingerprints and then rescrewed the cover back on with her sandal. 

Standing, she turned to look at Jughead’s back, still diligently monitoring the hallway like she asked. “Jug!” She whispered, raising the key, and he turned, his eyebrows shooting up. His eyes darted to the lockbox and back to Betty, before giving her a prideful grin. Goosebumps reappeared along Betty’s arms for a completely different reason, the look in his eyes melting her. 

He grabbed the key from her hand, obviously not caring about fingerprints himself. He then jammed the key into the lock, twisting it violently and roughly pulling the door open. Scrunching her face at the noise, Betty followed Jughead through the open door, softly closing it behind her, listening for the reassuring ‘ _ click’ _ of the lock. 

Turning to face the room, Betty’s gaze was met with bookshelves on bookshelves of basic brown files, the bookshelves reaching up high. If they hadn’t been facing a quick deadline, Betty would’ve looked through all of them. 

**[ The Sisters didn’t just keep files on their patients, but kept files on the family and friends of the patients as well. When a new person was admitted, at least ten new files were added. Of course, we didn’t know this at the time. ]**

“Are these all patient records?” Betty breathed, her eyes scanning one of the isles, her feet moving on their own accord. Jughead followed, right on her heels. Betty spotted an isle labeled ‘C’ and ran down it. Hopefully they categorised by last name. 

“I’d hope not,” Jughead said, looking above the shelves at the other letters, he spotted ‘J’ and Betty waved him off, focused on finding her own file. She finally found Cooper, and was reaching for her own file when she saw ‘Polly Cooper’ right next to her own, causing her to freeze. Why would the sisters have a file on her sister who hadn’t even been admitted? 

She shook her head, focusing herself on her own file, opening it and flipping through the pages until she spotted one a page that read  _ ‘Admittance Reasoning’ _ at the top. Stopping her flipping, Betty picked up the paper and squinted at it, reading the words, committing them to memory. 

Just as she was finished scanning the page, she heard a slam, her eyes flying up. The sound of boots scraping cement sounded, and Betty scrambled to hide behind one of the shelves, hoping Jug would find a place to hide as well. The scuffing sped up, and Betty heard a grunt, before a loud thump sounded. Opening her eyes, Betty’s gaze zoomed in on Jughead’s form on the floor, through the holes in the other bookshelves. 

Betty quietly turned, planning on making a run for it. She folded the paper and slid it into her undergarments, before standing. When she did, she found herself face to face with Claws, who did not look happy. Betty put her hands in front of her to protect her face as instinct just before a loud clang sounded through her head and the whole world went black. 

\- - -

Instant pain. Instant pain was what Betty awoke to. When her eyes fluttered open awkwardly, the first thing she noticed was the unbearable ache in her head. When her vision cleared she tried to stretch, but her arms wouldn’t budge, and steel bit into her wrists. Blinking, Betty looked down at her wrists to see they were chained to some sort of cement wall. 

Lifting her lulling head she laid eyes upon the room. Jughead was across from her, but he was still out, his black hair matted to his head with sweat. No one else appeared to be in the room. The walls were definitely older, not like the torture rooms Betty usually endured. 

She pulled against the wall with her might just for good measure, sighing and leaning her back against the stone at her weakness. She clenched her fists the best she could, but the chains wouldn’t allow her nails to hit skin. 

**[ She wasn’t weak, the Sisters were just experienced. Someone as strong as a predatory animal couldn’t pull the chains off the wall. Leave it to Betty to blame herself, though. ]**

She pushed her back against the wall then, trying to get enough friction to stand. If she stood, she might at least have a better chance at loosening the chains. 

Giving up after a few useless tries, she slumped against the wall once more. Why’d they just leave to two of them chained up? Betty assumed that they would’ve been torturing them by now, trying to crack them. Punishment was how they taught patients to not make the same mistake twice, she knew that by now. 

She heard Jughead stir and observed him as he awoke. She presumed he was having the instant pain she experienced as well due to the cringing in brows and clenched teeth. He pulled on the chains, but didn’t open his eyes. Betty licked her lips and swallowed, attempting to wet her scratchy throat. 

“Jug,” She violently hissed, and his eyes immediately snapped open. He looked at Betty first, scanning her. Betty felt that side of her that always got mushy when Jug got all heroic take bloom inside of her. She didn’t even try to stop it, her body needed a distraction from the pain. 

**[ The amount of times Betty refers to me just being a genuine caring friend as me being heroic is quite an overload. Shows just how lost she was with her friends; her lack of attention from them and her own family. ]**

“Betts, are you okay?” He hissed back, and Betty nodded, untangling her legs and laying them flat out in front of her, the ground cool against her bare legs. He relaxed and then scanned the room just as she had. So alike, they were. Betty hadn’t realised it when they were growing up, but she was much more like Jughead than she was like Archie. 

“The hell’s going on, Jug?” She asked, twisting her wrists in the cool chains, hoping to find a semi-comfortable position. He scrunched his brows in thought, and Betty watched him uncross his legs and lay them in front of his body just as she had.

**[ I can’t understand, still, why Betty always describes my ‘thought face’ so weirdly. I could change her thought face to my point of view, but I’m trying to make this as much to her account as possible. At least one of us is professional. ]**

“They caught us, that’s what’s going on,” Jughead quipped, and Betty would’ve crossed her arms or elbowed him if she was able. “Probably some reasoning, or something. Pain means no more mistakes, right? Just, whatever they do, let them,” Betty swallowed and exhaled. “Betts, promise me.”

“Okay, yeah, promise,” Betty finally murmured, looking away from his eyes. She hoped he’d let it go. Like he’d sit back and let them. She wouldn’t believe it until she saw it. 

**[ Good point. A wise one, that Betty Cooper. Who would let someone hurt a friend or a loved one? Hurting a loved one was worse than hurting oneself. ]**

“Did you even get anything?” Jughead asked, and it took Betty a second to realise he was asking about their infiltration. Through the comotion of being knocked out she’d almost forgotten about the reason they were tied up. She pulled at her arms, trying to reach the paper she’d folded up and shoved in her underwear, seemingly unsuccessful. 

“Now now Juggie, does that sound like me?” Betty remarked with a coy smirk. Jughead gave her his signature smirk with wide eyes in reply, Betty looking down towards her legs, trying to show him without saying. “Safe and sound, never fear,” She reassured, and Jughead’s eyes widened in realisation. 

“You’re an enigma, Cooper,” He replied, the same look on his face, the one that made her hairs stand on edge when realising it was directed at her. She was about to spit out a witty remark just as the door screeched open and Claws stormed through, Sister Livingston and another nun santering in behind. 

Betty and Jughead clapped their mouths closed at the same time, their eyes connecting in promise. It was then that Betty felt the bond glowing. It wasn’t a partnership, and it wasn’t a friendship. But, it didn’t frighten her any longer. She accepted it gladly. 

**[ She was late to the game, unfortunately, for I felt it long before the moment. It snapped for me quickly, settling as easily into place as it had before I left her for the Serpents. ]**

“Jughead, I am extremely disappointed in you,” the Sister Betty didn’t know stated, her pale wrinkly face tilting downwards in an upsetted mother form as she kneeled in front of Jughead. He didn’t move his gaze from Betty’s, and she appreciated the support. “Really, I thought we had moved past all this troublemaking business.” 

“Got to keep you on your feet somehow, Woodhouse,” Jughead playfully said, his eyes practically asking her to punish him. Betty swallowed, her saliva scratching her throat. She wasn’t dumb. She knew he was trying to divert attention from her so they would target him. Why’d he have to be such a fairytale stereotype? 

**[ Fairytales and real life seem to have a thin line separating them. Never knew that until I lived through this tale. Going back to our natural instincts? Who knows, we just become. Maybe it’s because we grew up with them and imagine ourselves in them. ]**

“Don’t toy with me, Forsythe. I know what you’re doing,” Sister Woodhouse, judging from Jughead’s words, said, raising herself to full height. Her back was still to Betty, but Betty had a feeling nothing good was coming. “Livingston, search her. He’s trying to protect her.” 

Betty kept her face dead, wishing the nun would move so she could look into Jughead’s eyes. They did have a way of steadying her. Exhaling silently, she didn’t dare move a muscle in her face. Reactions just showed weakness, and weakness got her exposed, or Jughead hurt. 

Claws kneeled in front of her and pulled her arms out wingspan style, locking her chains there against some magnet. He pushed her legs apart too and began patting her down. Betty closed her eyes and slowed her breaths. 

She could feel him there, sinking his teeth into her skin, violating her self-preservation. Re-opening her eyes she looked towards Jughead. The nun had moved to look as Claws began patting her stomach. She met Jughead’s eyes. They were calm and soothing. She began to sink into deeper layers of her skin, Claws fingers at her thighs barely present. 

**[ Calm and collected on the outside under pressure and aflame on the inside under pressure. A talent I wish I didn’t possess, sometimes. Betty certainly didn’t possess it, but she was doing well for the situation. ]**

“She’s clean,” Claws chomped out, and Betty did her best to make her sigh of relief sound like a short cough. The Sister’s glared at both her and Jughead, before Livingston turned fully towards Betty. 

“You will be freed. Consider this our apology for the events of the other day. If anything like this happens again, consider you and Mr. Jones separated and confined,” She announced. Claws undid her chains, and Betty watched as Woodhouse undid Jughead’s as well. “No more messing around together, either. We are all family, and you’d do well to remind yourself that.”

The Nuns sauntered out of the room, Claws glaring at Betty just once before following the woman. Sighing and pushing herself onto her knees, Betty crawled over to where Jughead was still leaning against the wall, rubbing his wrists. 

She threw her arms around him, and he pulled her close, setting his legs around her, like he always did. When Jughead held her, he held her as close as he could. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. 

Finally, she stood, and took his hand, leading him out of the room and towards the gardens. 

\- - -

“Show me, I’m losing it here,” Jughead complained, and Betty finally dragged him behind a tree, feeling that the distance she had put between the two of them and the other classmates was far enough. He looked at her expectantly, and she giggled, reaching her hand into her underwear and pulling out the folded paper, watching Jughead’s coy smile. 

**[ Genius and wild. Thoughts in the quick of a moment. Clear mind when life gets ahead a lap. Guess the Sister’s do teach their inmates skills after all. ]**

“Betty Cooper, you clever girl,” Jughead commented, and Betty took a full second to soak in the sensation of doing something right, getting a step ahead. Her and Jug weren’t failures. At least- not yet. But she didn’t need to worry about that for the moment. 

“Jughead Jones, you flatter me,” Betty remarked, unfolding the paper and handing it to him. “I’m too scared to read it. Do it for me?” Jughead just nodded, taking the crinkled sheet from her and lowering her eyes to scan the page.

Betty watched his face, knotting her hands together and writhing her fingers around one another. She didn’t know what she was expecting, and she sure as hells wasn’t ready for whatever the paper said. She loved her mom, but she did worry they were overreacting and it had just been her concerned parents. 

Jughead’s lips parted and a soft breath came out of his mouth as he finished scanning the page. He looked away from the paper, his eyes focusing on her face. A grin slowly spread across his mouth, Betty’s body racing with impatience. 

Jughead turned the page and placed his finger on the ‘paid for by’, pointing out the large typed print that read :  **PAPA.** Betty read the word over and over before casting her eyes back to Jughead’s face. 

Jughead was beaming, and his smile grew. “Well, gang, looks like we got a mystery on our hands.”

**[ And we come to a close on this segment. A full circle. A break in, but can a break out be pulled from the nothingness as well? It was this day, this first act of rebellion, that set the flames of the tale blazing. As well as the flames of a forbidden relationship, but that is a side piece. ]**

**[Betty was left with many questions, many of them related to their family. I was left with many questions as well, most of them related to the state of my gang. And, as we’ll see in the next sharing, Betty’s closest friends were also left with many questions. Ciao. ]**


	5. The Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. Have been way down lately and school is kicking my ass. Hopefully I'll maintain at least a chapter a month. Thanks to those of you who are still reading. Enjoy. Also didn't do a second edit so apologise for any mistakes.

**_Chapter 5: The Waiting_ **

_ Wherever you go / Whatever you do / I will be right here waiting for you / Whatever it takes / Or how my heart breaks / I will be right here waiting for you (Right Here Waiting ~ Richard Marx) _

**[ I’m no longer surprised, which you may understand. I too would still be present, if I didn’t know the end of this tale. Never fear, I have gotten more accounts, and will be giving away more than usual. How thoughtful of me, I know. ]**

**[ But first, we must recollect just were our two protagonists are at. After discovering that they were both appointed to the Sister’s by the same person, these two heroes decided it best to break into the record files. ]**

**[ After successfully learning Betty’s admission was paid by this mysterious man who also threatened her Sister and appointed Jughead to the Sisters, these two teenagers began planning. Theories erupted, and that is where we pop up once more in our tale. ]**

Betty awoke to a loud and consistent thudding on her cell door. It startled her awake, unlike the normal wake up bell. Betty realised this after she opened her door and saw that the hall was still dark and most of the inmates were still in their cell. So then why had there been banging on her door, and where had it come from?

Betty slipped her scratchy shoes on, stepping out onto the cool floor of the hallway, the cool, unheated air caressing her legs through her nightgown. She shut her door softly behind her, scanning both directions of the hallway. Had the thumping been just in her head?

**[ Baiting patients into getting themselves into trouble on accident. Doesn’t sound like the sisters** **_at all._ ** **]**

She decided to make her way to the right, towards the cafeteria and main entrance instead of the gardens. Her shuffling feet shifted against the ground, and the corridors seemed utterly empty. 

Finally giving up after reaching the end of the hallway, Betty turned around to head back to her cell. Reaching her cell door, she stepped inside and yawned. When she sat in her bed though, she was given quite the fright, when she came face to face with Claws, whose eyes were vivid and bloodred. 

Betty didn’t move, didn’t know what to do. She pulled the scratchy covers over her feet slowly, not looking away. Claws took a few steps in her direction and Betty froze, her heart thumping through an overtime pace. She was confused and scared, as one would be. Claws never showed up without Sister Livingston to order him around. 

“Give back what you stole,” Claws growled, and Betty swallowed, suddenly getting hit with the reason Claws was in her room at the crack of dawn. They’d noticed she’d took the paper, and they were going to punish her. 

**[ In Betty’s defense, what was she supposed to do? It’s not like she could’ve sauntered back to the file room and slip the document in her file with no troubles. ]**

“I didn’t take anything,” Betty croaked, throat dry. Claws took a few more steps towards her, his large body now at the foot of her bed. Betty pulled her legs up to her chest, cowering her back against the head of her bedframe in terror. No way was she getting out of this unharmed.  _ Think, Betty. _

Claws prowled forward, reaching the side of her bed, Betty pushing her back into the crack between the wall and the bedframe. She had cornered herself, or he had cornered her, she wasn’t sure which. Nonetheless, she was still out of luck. 

“Shall we go get Jones?” Stones scraping against each other, that was the deep rumble of Claws’ voice. Betty swallowed, her eyes widening. “If you don’t give it up, we’ll have to get him involved,” Claws threatened, and Betty continued to cower, her mind racing. 

He was right in front of her now, his big features terrifyingly silhouetted in the dark, the moon’s glow through the window the only source of light in the cell. She had skipped a whole book, and was now in a horrorstory, no longer feeling the lingering effects of the fairytale she’d left behind. 

“Please, I don’t want any trouble,” Betty got out, her voice shaky. She wouldn’t get Jughead hurt for her. Even if they had stolen it together, she refused. He meant too much to her. He was the last person she had left, and she’d already decided to grip him with an iron fist for as long as possible. 

“Then give. Me. the. Document.” Claws growled, emphasising every word with a hmph of breath. Betty swallowed and closed her eyes tight for a moment, picturing what Jughead would do if he found himself in this situation. 

**[ Not the best idea, but Betty did have her made up perfect Jughead to follow, not the real mess like I was. Plus, I would’ve done the same thing, as most would. Rather them hurt me than my last line of sanity, right? The common choice for most souls. ]**

Betty perked up suddenly, straightening her back, an idea sprouting into her head, sent by the gods, if there were any. Eyeing and weighing the situation, she measured Claws face to be around half a metre away from hers. It wasn’t necessary information, but she wasn’t in the mood to be pummeled. 

“Alright, I’ll give it over. But, what’s it mean to you? You’re just their messenger, right?” Betty quipped, her shreds of courage sliding their way onto her tongue and lifting her chin. Claws tilted his head and distanced himself just a couple of centimetres. “You’re a pawn. I mean, you can correct me if I’m wrong. But, it seems to me you’re just being used by the sisters. How much could they possibly pay you to get a large guy like you to beat up on some poor hurt patients?”

Claws face slowly became less aggressive, his demeanor turning less threatening in just the slightest of ticks. Betty almost grinned at her own smarts. “Just give me the document.”

Betty bit her lip. His voice had softened, and she knew she’d hit the spot of insecurity. Sure, it wasn’t her kindest moment, but it beat him torturing her for a paper. 

**[ Clever, and lucky enough to find the spot that would actually hit him. She got lucky with that one, that’s a fact. ]**

“Why should I give it to you? Seems you’re dirty seconds here. I should be giving it to someone of higher authority, should I not?” Betty imitated Polly, remembering how her sister’s voice would become all sharp and matter-of-fact in tough situations. Claws growled, his eyes darting around the room now. She’d definitely got his focus off kilter. 

“Sister Livingston sent me to get it. Now, pass it over. Or shall I go fetch Jones?” Claws quipped back, and Betty felt as if they were a squabbling couple debating over where to eat. Betty’s brain was processing at light speed, her filter getting it’s exercise for the day. 

**[ She should feel blessed to have such a good filter. Some are not granted that DNA gift at birth. ]**

“If you’re going to fetch Jughead, then I’ll go fetch a Sister who actually has the rights to handle this document,” Betty threw back, and Claws teeth released from their clanking position, his whole face relaxing. Betty almost cheered, feeling his aura go from threatening to given up. 

“What do you want?” He grit out, and Betty raised her brows, shocked. She didn’t know she could  _ receive _ something in exchange for the lousy document. On one hand, it would be nice to have Claws owe her a favour. But, on the other hand, she needed the document as evidence against the Sisters.

Finally deciding on the first option of the two, Betty pulled the crumpled document out of her panties and handed it to Claws, who looked alarmed at her hiding place. She arched a brow, giving him the offer to question her decision, but he backed off, making his way out of the room.

He stopped at the door, turning his head to look back at Betty. “What do you want in exchange?” He asked, and Betty grinned, feeling utterly mischievous.  _ Finally, some power on her side for once. _

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see. Call it a loan,” Betty wisecracked, her grin turning into a confident smirk. Claws rolled his eyes, though his face looked like humorous. With her comment, he turned, slamming the door of Betty’s cell behind him. 

\- - -

**[ Now, we partake in a bit of a scenic drive. Out of the woods, down the two lane highway for a while, before the lanes spread to four, and we have landed back in Downtown Riverdale. Our commute does not stop there, though, because we drive through the neighborhood until we hit the home of one Archie and Fred Andrews. ]**

**[ I have gathered accounts from Archie for most of the tale I wasn’t partaking in, but Veronica and a few others supplied as well. So, like how I did with Betty when she was alone, I’m depending on the honesty of these teens. With that said, here we are. The boy next door. ]**

“Ronnie, slow down for a few seconds, will you?” Archie ordered, exasperated by Veronica’s quick words and loud tone. Ever since Betty’s enrollment to whatever boarding school Alice had said she’d been sent off to, Veronica had been all over Archie. As much as he enjoyed the attention of the pretty girl, two weeks of pure ‘Ronnie time’ had taken its toll. 

“I can’t, Arch. How am I supposed to plan this dumb dance without B? She’s the creative one, with all the fun ideas. I just supply the wallet and booze!” Veronica exclaimed, and Archie patted beside him on his bed. His dad would come upstairs and complain if Veronica kept pacing, since the boards of their house were squeaky. 

“You’ll figure it out. Just have to put yourself in Betty’s mindset. Think like she would,” Archie offered, his eyes finding their way through his window to where Betty’s curtains were tightly drawn. Wouldn’t make a difference, but it would’ve been nice to at least see her room. 

Veronica met his eyes and finally sat herself on the bed next to where Archie was leaned up against the wall. She rested her head against the wall next to his, and Archie moved his neck so he could look at her more easily, his cheek resting against the cold wall. 

**[ How romantic. Should’ve just eloped. Would’ve saved Betty the pain. Not like I’m judging, though. *cough*. ]**

“Why would she just up and leave, Arch?” Veronica’s voice became quiet, and Archie could sense the breakdown coming. He wanted with his entire being to comfort Veronica, but in honesty, he had no idea why she up and left either. He was being torn apart as well. “No note, no hug, no goodbye, just her lousy mom to shove us off her doorstep.” 

“I know Veronica, I know,” Archie breathed out, taking Veronica’s hands in his own. That was his other problem. Due to Betty not giving them any warning of her leave, she had left him in an utter waiting place. He was planning on ending it with her soon, since it was obvious to everyone but Betty who he really wanted to be with. But, since she bolted, he didn’t know if it counted as a breakup. 

She rested her forehead against his, and he adjusted his cheek, looking down into her eyes now. They hadn’t done much, and Veronica had respected his indecisiveness, though he could tell she was done waiting. He was being silly. Betty was probably off meeting foreign exotic men, way past lowly Archie Andrews. 

**[ Yes. It is I, Jughead Jones III, the most exotic foreign man New York has to offer. Very funny, Mr. Andrews. I’m so glad excuses come easy to those in ignorance. ]**

“We just have to… move on,” Archie said weakly, trying his best to perk up. Veronica just snorted, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders and over the eye closest to the wall. Archie sighed and brushed it out of her eye, securing it behind her ear. 

“I don’t want to move on. I want my best friend back, and one hell of a good explanation. I’m not a patient person, and I’m not forgetting, either,” Veronica rebuked, and Archie smiled slightly. Like he didn’t already know all this about her. Just because he’d been dating Betty and not Veronica didn’t mean he didn’t notice Veronica’s characteristics. 

“I know Ronnie,” He repeated, raising their linked hands and resting them against his chest, holding her hand close to his heart. “We’ll just have to move on together,” he offered, his courage gathered. She didn’t look shocked though. 

Nodding her head, she smiled, placing a light kiss against his lips. “But, I refuse to move on without a goodbye first, or an explanation. Then, I promise, we’re good to go,” She compromised, and Archie nodded, blinking down at the dark haired city girl.

\- - -

**[ Unlike the happy folk down the highway in Riverdale, us phycos were having a bit of a harsher time in the woods. A forbidden relationship was the only similarity in sight for both of the pairs, it seemed. ]**

“I told you, they’re not fresh!” Betty argued,shoving her palms into Sister Livingston’s face once more, her agitation clear. If she was accused of harming herself in the past few days one more time, she was going to use her nails for something else, and it wouldn’t be to herself. 

It wasn’t like she was lying, either. They  _ weren’t _ fresh. Somehow, throughout this living hell, she’d anchored herself. She wasn’t sure if it was to a feeling or object or person, but she was feeling clearer. She credited Jughead. 

**[ Aw, shucks, I’m blushing. Not like she built any self-resistance due to intense and life threatening situations, but I’ll take what I can get. ]**

“You have lies written about your face,” The sister stated, and Betty threw her hands in the air, looking away from the nun and down at the desk. She’d been brought into an empty office area for an education update, just to make sure she still possessed all her basic subject skills. Of course, while she’d been working away, Sister Livingston had noticed her hands and accused her off nail stabbing her palms recently. 

“You have no proof against me!” Betty exclaimed, sitting back down in the chair. “Besides, I have work to finish, like you asked,” Betty pointed out, picking up the pencil to emphasise her point. If only others were in the room, then she’d have them as an excuse as well. 

“The Lord is my proof, dear child, you know this,” The nun pressed. Betty took a very large breath, exhaling very slowly, stopping herself from pummeling the nun. For once, she wasn’t in any state of having done anything wrong. All she  _ wanted  _ was to finish her dumb math review. At least math was some link to the real world and away from crazy old ladies who call the Lord their eyes. 

**[ We know we’ve hit an all time low when we look forward to** **_study_ ** **time because everything else is miserable. Guess you finally got to us, government. Congrats. ]**

A knock suddenly sounded at the door, causing Betty to nearly fall out of her chair, her arms catching themselves on the desk. Thanking the real Lord, and not the Sister’s ‘ _ All Seeing Eye’ _ , Betty turned her eyes to the door lazily to see who was disturbing this ridiculous argument. 

Betty perked, recognising the sister at the door to be Jughead’s mentor, or whatever they were supposed to be. Her excitement was confirmed when Jughead followed the tall nun into the room, followed by a few other patients, Betty recognising none of them. 

Jughead met her eyes and mini saluted with two fingers, a goofy grin on his face. Stifling her smile, she turned her attention back to Sister Livingston, who was glaring at Sister Woodhouse with death in her eyes. Her giggle becoming harder to hide, Betty waited for the two nun’s eye murder game to end before Sister Livingston finally granted Betty her attention. 

“We’ll discuss this later, young lady. You are not off any hooks. Now, finish your studying. Someone will come by to get you,” The Sister stated, sauntering her way to the door, exiting the room with Woodhouse, the two quietly discussing something already. 

**[ Funny to see that all the Sister’s don’t get along swell. Seems odd that they don’t even like each other. How could they heal a patient if they couldn’t even heal bonds between them and coworkers? ]**

Jughead plopped himself down at the desk right next to Betty’s right when the door clicked. The boy just couldn’t hold himself back. “So, what was Momma-Living scolding you for?” Jughead joked lightly. Betty grinned, scooting a bit closer to him, ignoring the other inmates around them. She wasn’t sure how Jughead would react to the situation, but she wanted to show off her skills to him. 

“So, you won’t believe what happened this morning in my room…” Betty continued her story, watching all of Jughead’s reactions and savouring his joking nature. 

**[ So now we know what the other two angles of the square were up to for the time being. That’s not where their segment of the story ends, though. They’ve got a lot to do and a lot to share with the plot. ]**

**[ Betty’s found a hole, and I’ve found some joy. So, things were finally looking up. Or were they? Guess we’ll have to wait and see. ]**


End file.
